


An Encounter

by thesoundof



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dancer AU, Fingering, M/M, Slight Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoundof/pseuds/thesoundof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall and Zayn meet on a competitive dance show and feelings happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [niallincolor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niallincolor/gifts).



Niall hugs Kyle close, hiding his face in the mans neck. He feels bad being upset like this when Kyle is the one being sent home but, as his friend whispers a quiet goodbye in his ear and tells him to win for the both of them, Niall can’t help but let a few tears escape. It’s only been six weeks but Kyle is the third one of his friends to be eliminated since the start of the competition. Niall’s the only one left. Kyle pats him on the back and Niall gives him one last squeeze before stepping back and letting him continue down the line to wrap an arm around a guy who’s name Niall can’t quite remember. 

He doesn’t know him too well but he does know this dude and Kyle had been chilling together since getting paired up for week four but he’d never come out with their group, usually choosing to stay in Liam, another contestant. That and he- Zayn, Niall remembers- is nearly always the first to be called safe come elimination.

Kyle says something to the judges, the camera really, and then he’s off and the rest of them are getting their challenge for the following week, partners are assigned and styles are randomly selected and they’re lead of stage to the sound of live audience applause.

Someone taps on Niall’s shoulder and there he is, Zayn Malik, top dog, hip-hop extraordinaire and partner for the week. Maybe it’s just a coincidence or maybe it’s the fates taking pity. Either way Niall’s glad for it. He’d been dreading going back to the house to find his room void of Kyle’s things, coming back to Viv’s empty bed had been bad enough a few weeks ago but at least he’d had support. With both of them gone the sight of his lone unmade bed might just be his undoing. Niall doesn’t know how he’d gotten so close to two complete strangers in such a short amount of time but it just goes to show, he guesses, how opportunities like theirs can bring people together.

Zayn shakes his shoulder a little and Niall realises he’s probably been asked something. 

“M’sorry could you repeat that mate?”

Zayn grins, “I just asked if you wanted to come back to my room for a bit when we get back to the house. We could go over some things, chat a bit. I don’t think we’ve ever talked before...Kyle said you’re a cool guy though so…”

Niall doesn’t quite know what to do with that yet so he just nods and turns to change out of his costume and collect the rest of his things from the dressing room. He finds Zayn again in the lobby standing with Liam, who nods politely, and waits with them for the car that’ll take them back to the house.

+

Zayn’s room is somehow both the exact same and complete opposite of Niall’s. Of course all the rooms are structured the same, three beds to a room, one bunk bed one single, but that’s where the similarities stop. While Viv, Kyle, and he had been fairly organised, Zayn and Liam keep their room in a bit of disarray. An organised mess, as his Da would say.

“Marsh used to do the tidying up so when he...left, we just kinda let it be. I’m sure Liam will crack soon though, he’s been eyeing the vacuum down the hall.”

Marsh. Marshal. Niall vaguely remembers red hair and a killer foxtrot.(A not so killer waltz had sent him home last week.) They hadn’t hung ‘round each other much but Niall had thought he was nice. That doesn’t mean Niall’s just going to roll around on his (or anyone elses) bed without permission though, so he hovers in the doorway surveying the mess in front of him. Most of it’s just papers. Sketches. One of them must draw. His guess is Zayn, the style is similar to that of some of his tattoos; he figures the Becks poster next to the door must be Liam’s. 

“You can sit down if you want.” Zayn toes off his shoes and collapses onto the bottom bunk. He past the spot next to him but catches Niall’s hesitation.  
“Or anywhere; his old bed’s not sacred ground or nothin’ and if you wanna climb up to my bunk you’re welcome to.” He says, tucking his hands behind his head.

The space next to Zayn looks better than it really should given the fact that they barely know each other. Niall’s not usually one to deny himself but he feels like he should get to know this guy better before taking up residence under his arm. So he goes for the second best option, laying perpendicular to Zayn with his head on Zayn’s torso and his feet on the edge of the bed frame above him. A nice point of contact, a comfy pillow, and a thigh stretch all in one. He takes his time making a few minor adjustments, getting his arse settled further in on the bed and finding the least boney part of Zayn’s front.

“Go on then make yourself comfortable,” cracks Zayn, poking in Niall’s ear just as he stops moving.

The blond swats at him but ends up hitting himself in the face, Zayn moving his finger to quickly for Niall to catch him. His head jumps on Zayn’s tummy as the other boy giggles.

“You’re a menace, Malik.” Zayn snorts at the alliteration. He moves his hand to sift through Niall’s hair as an apology and they sit in silence for a moment just feeling each other out, taking in the easy atmosphere and camaraderie they both already feel. 

After what feels like an age but was probably only twenty minutes, Zayn breaks the silence.

“So, what’s your style?”

“Working hard all week and getting sloppy drunk on the weekends.”

Zayn nudges the back of his head with a shift of his hip, “You know what I meant, ya prick.” The breathy sounding laugh under the name takes away any sting it would have held.

“Couldn’t resist. ‘S contemporary, though. That and jazz. Love jazz.”

Jazz means good isolations, Zayn thinks to himself. That means Niall should take well to that aspect of their routine. If those are included at all anyway. Who the fuck knows what their choreographer could come up with.

“Yours is hip-hop right? You killed that challenge in week one, if I remember.” A flush takes over Zayn’s cheeks and he’s glad Niall’s not looking at him right now.

“I actually specialize in ballet. But hip-hop is a close second so...yeah I guess you could say it’s my style. I’ve been real into b-boy stuff lately, ya know, like breaking and that.”

Niall laughs in disbelief. “You? A ballet boy? I never would have guessed, you seem far too chilled out for that. If I wasn’t so comfy right now I’d make you get up and prove it.” He pushes his head harder into Zayn’s stomach to make the point before continuing.

" I can definitely see you as a b-boy though. You’ve got the footwork bit down, from what I saw that time. And you look much more the part!” He grins and flails his feet along the bed frame in a terrible mimic of a quick step, laughing as the boxspring creaks beneath them. Part of Zayn is tempted to give him the whole ‘don’t judge a book by it’s cover’ spiel but he knows Niall doesn’t mean any of it in a disparaging way; he’s just being honest with Zayn, speaking his thoughts. The other part of him is too busy laughing along to care.

They keep on like that, asking whatever questions come to mind and cracking jokes more often than not. Niall learns that Zayn has three sisters, none of them dancers, and that he dropped out of uni to make time for and commit to the show. Niall himself hadn’t been able to afford both uni and training so he’d chosen to skip out on a coveted higher education. It turns out Liam and Zayn had been childhood friends who’d lost touch and met again during auditions. Things had been awkward between them at first but they’d pushed past that and, in the end, became closer than they were before. Niall tells him how Vivian and Kyle were so much like his friends back in Ireland. How they’d formed such an easy friendship, had looked out for each other however they could. It hadn’t been as effortless as this thing with Zayn is turning out to be, but it was a close.

Niall also finds out that Zayn would never have even given dancing a thought if his older sister hadn’t been so insistent about not going to ballet lessons alone. His mum had signed them both up and in the end Doniya had dropped the class while Zayn continued on for 12 years. He said that if it wasn’t for that one class, he’d probably still be in uni majoring in English with a minor in art history.

There are a few natural lulls during the hours they spend talking, giving them a chance to digest all the bits and pieces they’re getting about each other. It almost feels like a therapy session of sorts, both of them spilling secrets they'd never shared before. Niall allows himself the luxury of spreading out more and more over Zayn until he's practically on top of him. If Liam comes in to go to bed, only to find them asleep beside each other on his bed, Zayn’s arm wrapped firmly around Niall’s waist, well, it just shows they're physically comfortable with each other. Which is a good thing for dance partners to have, obviously.

+

“So I want this to be fun and showy. Niall you’re going to be the magician and Zayn is your subject. He’s been hypnotized into doing whatever you say, and following your movements, simple as that. It’ll give us the room to let Zayn show off a bit, get some tricks in, but still have you, Niall, working hard.”

They jump right in, making a path and marking the hits they need to make, but as they get further into the choreo Niall finds himself more and more curious and confused. What’s the hand glide position? How had he known how to do an indian step without even knowing the name for it? When can he learn that flare thing Zayn does, it’s sick. When he asks that last bit, Zayn laughs good naturedly with their director which Niall takes to mean it’ll be a while before he gets to that level.

That said, for a beginner he’s doing phenomenally well. Or at least, thats what June, the choreographer, tells him.

Niall’s a fast learner; when June tells him his ‘ticks’ need to be sharper, he brings his focus back to his body instead of the moves. Stops the natural flow he has, and has trained with for years, and creates just enough backwards momentum to catch himself and hit the stop. The basic downrock steps they’ve shown him give him some trouble but he goes at them with all he has. His isolations are tighter than the rest of his moves thanks to his jazz training but even that gets brought to a whole other level.

By the end of the first rehearsal, Niall is tired, sore, and full of questions. When they get back to the house Niall makes them both a quick dinner while grilling Zayn, who sits on the counter next to the stove

“So when you do them shape things with your arms-”

“Tutting.”

“Yeah, and hows that different from ticking? Or locking or whatever the fuck that is. And how do you even know that stuff I thought you were a breakdancer.”

“You don’t have to be a popper to know how pop.”

“That’s another thing. Popping. Locking and popping are different? But waving somehow came out of popping? Tell me how that even makes sense. And what’s all the Krumping business.” 

Zayn smiles at that, holding back a laugh with his tongue behind his teeth. “We didn’t even do any krumping today, Ni. Where’d you hear about that.”

Niall scrunches his nose cutely. “I googled hip-hop in the lift this morning, gave me a list of all this stuff. Was hoping it would help me follow along today but obviously that was a bust.” He flips the chicken, letting the other side cook a bit before taking it off the heat and adding a piece to the rest of the sandwich waiting in the panini press. “I understood some of the stuff you’d told me the other night but I wanted know as much as I could, figured it wouldn’t hurt to know what June was bloody talking about when we got to the studio. But reading is a lot different than doing.”

He latches the press closed and sets his elbows on the counter, leaning his shoulder into Zayn’s side. It’s already hot in the kitchen but the warmth seeping from Zayn is nice and Niall enjoys the feel of it against his normally cool skin.

“You’ll help me right? like outside of regular practice? I could do with some I think; I could probably get it down in a day or two if we work on it a couple times a day and then the rest of the week we can spend playing with it a bit, ya know? Make it real looney and that. Bit like us.”

They’ve really only known each other a couple days but Niall already thinks of them as an ‘us’ and wow Zayn didn’t even know his chest could feel this warm without any alcohol involved. Niall nudges Zayn’s side and grins, like he knows exactly how Zayn’s thinking, before going back to their food.

+

They’re the top two that week. It’s the first time Niall’s ever been called first and he wants to freeze the moment, bask in the exhilaration and excitement of knowing right away you’re safe for another week. He feels like he could ride the feeling forever.

So when he pulls Zayn in for a hug backstage after eliminations, mid dressing, and turns his head to kiss him square on the mouth, he blames the top spot high.

Niall doesn’t even realise what he’s done at first. He doesn’t think about how inappropriate this is or how it could affect their future in the house; how they’ve only been talking to each other for a week, tops. He doesn’t think about any of it. Mostly because Zayn is kissing him back. Zayn’s arms have wrapped around Niall’s waist and his mouth is open just so and he hasn’t pushed Niall away or frozen up and wow Zayn’s hair is so soft when did Niall’s hands even get there?

Zayn pulls his arms tighter until they're flush against each other, hips digging into one another, and edges his tongue along the line of Niall's bottom lip in hopes of deepening the kiss. Niall moans at the feel and just as he parts his lips further, several people clear their throats behind him. Remembering just where they are, Niall leans back, detaching their lips with a laugh. 

"Sorry, Zayner, got a bit carried away there I did."

The responding shrug and squeeze of his waist just makes Niall giggle harder. "M'not fussed, if I'm honest," Zayn mutters, giving a parting bite to Niall's chin before stepping away fully and gathering the rest of his things. As he passes Niall to go to the lobby of the theatre he smacks him on the bum. 

+

The kiss leads them to be even more intimate than they were before. They're constantly in contact; hands on waists and arms around shoulders, legs tangled together when they sit on the couch or their beds. If they're not next to each other than they're looking across the room, eye contanct so strong not even a call of their name at elimination can break their attention and make them look away. They're always sharing soft looks and conversing with wiggling eyebrows and bright eyes, understanding each unsaid word perfectly.

They kiss more, too.

They kiss quite often actually. Brushing kisses hello and goodbye, languid make outs in Niall's bed on their off days after mucking around in the studio, deep needy kisses Liam can't help but blush at when he finds them on Zayn's bed, hard and breathless.

They also fuck (though that's much less often and usually in Niall's room, which Liam is mightily thankful for,) when they've both got the time.

Like now, both of them shirtless on Niall's bed, Zayn rubbing Niall through his jeans before working the zip open and pushing them down to his knees. They've been working each other up for a good half hour and it shows, the damp spot on Niall's briefs growing with each pass of Zayn's hand. 

"Been a bit since we had time, yeah?" Zayn murmurs, licking gently down Niall's neck and nipping at his collarbone. "Wanna taste you. Open you up with my tongue and then watch you ride my fingers."

Niall moans and shifts his hips, searching for more friction but, unfortunately, gets the opposite as Zayn moves off of him to rid himself of his sweats and tug Niall's pants off the rest of the way before climbing back over him and settling between his splayed legs. 

"You want that, babe? Or do you want me to suck you off while I get you ready for my cock?"

He starts their slow grind up again, dragging a hand down Niall's side to pin his hip to the mistress. Niall himself doesn't even have to speak, just looks as Zayn with glazed eyes and a parted mouth and Zayn knows exactly what he's asking for. 

When Niall comes the first time it's down Zayn's throat with two fingers tapping at his prostate. Zayn adds one as he pulls off and moves down to lick around his fingers; focused more on stretching Niall out now, his prostate too sensitive to pay it any more attention.

"M's'good," Niall slurs as he pushes back on his fingers, "feels- mmm really... Feels like a lot but I want, um..." Niall squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before looking down into Zayn's eyes. "More?"

Zayn smirks at Niall's incoherence and nods, removing his fingers and giving one last parting suck to Niall's swollen rim. He reaches for the condom sitting on top of the side table and tears the wrapper with ease despite his slick fingers, rolling it down his prick, giving himself a few strokes to use the leftover lube on his hand. 

They lean in at the same time for a kiss, Niall opening up under Zayn, mouth soft and pliant letting him lead it as he pushes into Niall, rolling his hips gently to let Niall adjust. Once he's full in he stops and waits, breathing heavily into their kiss, which is really just quick nips to bruised lips at this point. A broken moan falls from Niall's lips as he pushes back on Zayn and digs his nails into tattooed shoulders.

"Fucking beautiful when you take what you want babe." 

The whisper tickles warm against Niall's neck and only feeds his arousal as he pushes back harder. Zayn's hands move down to grip at his thighs, lifting his feet off the bed taking his leverage; taking the upper hand. 

His thrusts are slow and hard, Zayn feeling incredibly patient, and Niall thinks it'll just about be the end of him as a zing of pleasure makes his prick start to perk back up. Zayn hits his prostate dead on and changes from measured thrusts to harsh rolls of his hips, rubbing over Niall's spot again and again, making him fill out even more, almost too quick after coming so recently. But it's a good kind of pain. He pulls on his near fully hard cock as Zayn starts speeding up, pushing them both up the mattress with the force. The only sound in the room is the slap of their skin and an occasional low grunt from Zayn as he pushes in particularly hard. Niall's too breathless to really make any real sound, gasping silently as he starts to come for the second time, squeezing down on Zayn inside of him, thighs trying to close around the arms holding them up.

"Fuck, yeah Ni that's it love. Look so sweet when you come," Zayn growls. He leans in closer, thrusts turning erratic as he chases his own orgasm. Niall whines, feeling raw and shaky, but bears with it, part of him loving this, the sight of Zayn shamelessly taking what he wants now that Niall's been taken care of. 

With a long, low sound, Zayn comes, pushing into Niall a handful more times before pulling out and getting rid of the condom. He grabs a few tissues from the box on the side table to clean Niall up a bit knowing they're both too loose limbed to walk all the way to the bathroom down the hall for a flannel. 

Niall sighs his thanks and opens his arms for Zayn to fit beside him, wanting a cuddle and a kip before dinner. 

+

They make it all the way to top 8 before things crumble. 

Niall's in the middle of his performance, Kaitlyn lifted above him, when his knee gives out beneath them. They both drop to the floor, Niall crying out when Kait lands right on his knee, wrecking it even further. They keep the music playing incase it was just a slip up but Niall knows he's not getting up from this one. This is it for him. 

An ambulance is called and his mates give him pats and squeezes as he's wheeled out from backstage, Zayn's frightened grip on his wrist worse than the pitying glances from the others. 

"I'll be okay Zee, promise. Don't think about it okay? You've gotta focus, you're so close." The grip is stays tight though, and Niall knows Zayn's this close to asking to come with him to the hospital.

"Do it for me. Dance for me babes, okay?" 

That gets a reluctant loosening of fingers which Niall takes advantage of. Sliding his fingers through Zayn's hand, he blows the boy a kiss before being placed in the back of the emergency vehicle. 

Zayn dances his heart out and once again ends up in the top two but it feels hollow, the usual rush of happiness missing without Niall there to be proud of him. To smile for. He goes to the hospital immediately afterward, not even bothering to change out of his costume.

The nurse at the desk tells him Niall is still in surgery and fuck Zayn wasn't ready to hear that at all. Surgery. This is more than just a badly dislocated knee and Niall really won't be coming back at all.

He sits in the waiting room, hoping to hear something but knowing it probably won’t happen. He’s not family and they’re not married. But Niall’s family are ages away so surely they’ll let the rule slide this time; Zayn really is the only one here to hear the news. 

Hours go by before anyone remotely surgeon like comes into the waiting room, enough time that Zayn has convinced himself they’ve had to do a double amputation and Niall will never get to dance again. Prosthetics aren’t cheap.

“Is there anyone here for Niall Horan?”

He nearly brains himself on the corner of the wall on his way to the doctor, tripping over his feet in haste to get the news. “I’m here. I’m Zayn, we’re on the show together. His family won’t be here for at least a day, can you just tell me what’s happened?”

The doctor scans the room before frowning and taking Zayn aside. 

“He’s got a torn ACL and a bit of previous tissue damage that looks like it caused a considerable amount of inflammation before the fact. The surgery went well but he’ll be laid up for several months, to let the tendon and surrounding tissue and muscle heal, even longer before he can go back to training. I’d say a year before he can start even light conditioning. It looks like this has built up over time but there’s no record of previous damage so it probably snuck up on him. He’s seems like strong lad though, very resilient.”

Zayn doesn’t hear anything past ‘a year before he can start light training.’ A year. That’s too long. Months are too long. Weeks are too long. Niall’s got to come back. He's got to come back tomorrow with a brace and some pain meds. He's got to come back to the house and to the studio, to Zayn. What will they do if Niall goes back home to Ireland? Will they still be together? Are they even together now? Zayn’d thought so but they’d never said anything official about it. He figured they hadn’t needed to, that they’d been on the same page but now he’s feeling like maybe they should have said something out loud. Set something in stone.

“Can I see him?”

The man shakes his head, says Niall’s just gotten out of surgery and won’t be awake yet, out cold somewhere in recovery. Zayn tries his best not to cuss the man out and sits quietly back in the waiting room, knee bouncing so ferociously it shakes the whole row of chairs. He calls Liam to fill him in, to ask someone to contact Niall’s parents again and see how far they are. Really he just needs someone to talk to. Usually Niall is there to calm him with a look or a touch but it’s Niall making him nervous like this. Niall laid up in a hospital bed with a career stalling injury. 

A nurse stops by once or twice to offer him a drink or a friendly shoulder to lean on but other than that he’s mostly alone.

At nearly half 11 his phone rings. It's one of the producers calling to let him know a car’s been sent to pick him from the hospital. He wants to protest but he knows he can’t stay here all night; they won’t even let him in the see Niall so it’s somewhat pointless for him sit here all night. Or it seems pointless to other people. Zayn knows that Niall would appreciate him staying if he knew, but it´s out of his hands. So when the car pulls up outside, he climbs in without a fight and lets himself be carted back to the house, though his thoughts stay at that hospital with Niall.

+

Niall stays in the hospital for two more days before being released, Zayn visiting him when he can during that time. He stops back at the house only long enough to gather his things with the help of his brother and mum. He comes by Zayn´s room to say goodbye, the two of them laying in each others arms before parting with a long, soft kiss. 

It´s the first time either of them say the words “I love you” out loud.

+

Niall texts him often and always before he goes on to perform, ‘dance for me’ packing a punch even in tiny block letters. Zayn dances his heart out each and every week for the boy back in Ireland and he makes the top two twice more before it’s just not enough anymore. He’s reverting back into himself like he hasn’t since he was in high school. Even Liam has a hard time dragging anything out of him. The ache of missing Niall drags him down in every aspect of his life. He talks less, stays in his room all day when he’s not got studio time scheduled, even calls home less; he finds there’s nothing new to tell his mum without Niall there to make the memories with. It affects his performance so badly he goes from top two to bottom two in one go. When the judges ask if he’s committed to this anymore, he can’t bring himself to look them in the eye when he lies.

+

It comes to an end for Zayn with the final four. 

“Your performance level has lessened considerably since the start of this competition, Zayn. You’ve literally gone from the top to the bottom in a week. Would you care to explain what’s happened?’’

Zayn looks at the floor, leaning away from the mic thats been placed in front of his mouth. It was sort of a known thing, him and Niall, but that doesn’t mean he wants to announce to a room full of people who are disappointed in him that he’s distracted because his boyfriend is hundreds of miles away and in pain. He doesn’t want Niall to see him standing there, ashamed and nervous. Doesn’t want him to think Zayn’s using Niall’s injury as an excuse to slack off when he’s supposed to be dancing for him. So he tells a half truth. ”I’ve just been distracted, not thinking clearly. I think I’ve lost some of my drive and it’s really starting to come through in my dancing. I don’t know how to stop dragging myself down.’’

The audience makes a mass noncommittal noise and Zayn looks up to see the judges faces, the host's voice white noise in his ears as he realises that this is it for him. It’s confirmed a minute later by the judges themselves, telling him there’s not room this far in the competition for lackluster performances and half baked commitment. He hugs the other three goodbye, spending an extra moment with Liam to wish him luck and whisper his hopes that Liam’ll make it all the way, before making his way off stage to the changing rooms. He packs his backpack and catches a car back to the house to pack the rest of his things. Just as he gets to his room his phone buzzes with a text.

‘I still love you.’ And then another, ‘I’m still gonna kick your ass when you get here,’ that makes Zayn smile for the first time in weeks, cheeks pinching with the effort. As he wheels his things to the taxi waiting for him he phones his mum and tells her to book him a ticket to Ireland for next week, promising to explain when he gets home.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it!


End file.
